Catalyst
by Prolix Descartes
Summary: "We've been told for the longest time that Starfleet was bad news," Captain Amador said. "But now I can't help but wonder - what if... we're the real monsters?" His companions paused. "You're saying..." "Yes. I am saying. We're the bad guys here, and we need to set things right." [Heavy OC use; original plotline; read at your own risk, haha]
1. Chapter 1

_How long had she been here? She couldn't tell anymore. There were only voices. Voices and hands and cold and white._

 _They didn't listen to her. Every day they looked and touched, probed and murmured, and they didn't_ see _. And it was driving her insane._

 _She was a_ person _. Every day she tried to scream at them, tried to get it through their heads, that she was not their property. They had no right to be doing this to her. She was her own person, hers to decide her own fate._

 _They didn't think so. She heard them; heard them talk about "the subject" or "No. 17." And she hated it._

 _Cogito ergo sum! Her mind chanted every day. Cogito ergo sum! I think, therefore I am! I think and therefore I am! I_ am!

 _The needles pricked her. She grew numb under their harsh sterility._

 _Cogito ergo sum, she thought weakly. I am. I'm thinking. I am alive, and cogito ergo sum._

 _Every day it grew harder to think, to reason. She couldn't feel like before. She couldn't tell day from night or hot from cold. It almost scared her, but she'd been robbed of her ability to fear._

 _I'm still here though, she persisted, day by day. I am a fighter. Cogito ergo sum._

 _Sometimes she thought that, maybe, those droning noises she heard on the edge of her mind were meant to be words of some kind. Sometimes she wondered if she were to be concerned about the icy feeling seeping through her veins._

 _She would get flashes, blurs and colors. Split second images that sometimes she felt were hers; but no, they could not be hers. She never saw anything but blankness. She hadn't opened her eyes in a long time…if ever._

 _So who were these people she saw in her mind's eye? This young female child, kneeling beside an older male. Both with bright eyes, both with their lips curving upwards…_

 _No… those were hallucinations. How could one whose eyes are perpetually closed see? Impossible. She knew nothing but blankness, frozen veins, needles making her numb and murmuring voices._

 _I am here, she thought tonelessly, I have always, always been here. I think, and so I am. I think…so I…_

 _Eternities and seconds, spilling onto the floor. Mingling, clashing. Iridescent. Glittering. And yet translucent and white, because she knew only blankness._

* * *

 _…_

 _What was this?_

 _A sharper sound. Sharper voices. Powerful. What was the first saying?_

'Unstrap it.'

 _What did that mean? Why did it matter?_

 _What was that violent, tearing sound? She didn't like it. She tried to shrink away from it, but she could not move._

'She's waking. Finish undoing the straps.'

 _A sudden sort of breeze. She was cold. Her wrists and ankles, cold. Uncomfortably free._

'Go on then. Open your eyes.'

 _What? What was the meaning of that statement?_

 _She struggled a bit more. Clenched her jaw. And then slowly, she opened her gates to the world outside her head._

'I knew you could do it.'

 _It hurt. Blinding, bright flashes, colors, sounds and sights. Too much. Too much. She let out a pitiful noise through her mouth, felt it resound in the air. She sprawled, arched her back, tried to escape without even shutting her eyes._

'Her glare recovery time will need work, you realize.'

 _It was fading, the agony. She allowed herself to relax a bit. She was recovering._

'I realize that, sir.'

 _Now she could see. Now she had the gift of vision. And now she could see the two figures towering over her, and the white room, and the silver tools on her bedside._

 _One of the figures leaned a bit, to see her better._

'This one, sir. This one is good.'


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir!"

As expected the young woman drew her arm up crisply. Upper arm parallel to the ground; forearm at a forty-five degree angle, fingertips touching the edge of her right eyebrow. A clean sweep, the paragon of a soldier.

"At ease."

And her arm fell smoothly to her side again.

"Captain, I have completed all the assigned drills. May I ask for another job?"

His eyebrow twitched mirthfully. For all his experience, he would always have a jovial nature.

"That's enough for today," he replied with a nod. "That's a record, then – good on you."

Captain Jerrick Amador was young; how young, she couldn't say. Definitely older than herself, though, and it showed.

"Actually," he reconsidered, casting her a thoughtful glance. "I want you to come with me on a scouting mission. Van, too – bring him over for me."

She nodded, ever obedient. Jerrick smiled faintly.

"Thank you, Talya."

"Of course."

And she was striding down the corridors. She had questions, of course, but she never voiced them.

Unlike Van.

Called Vanni by those who had worked with him before – a friendly shortening of Vanguard – the lean young man was always the first to volunteer for everything. His sense of duty was like the stubble on his chin – impossible to miss and completely characteristic of him.

At the moment he was putting a rather large box of ammunition into one of the supply closets, movements quick and fluid, as a soldier's should be.

"Vanguard," Talya called.

He turned around quickly, his mouth pulling upwards at the corners.

"Yes'm," he called back. He jogged over to her, eyebrows raised. "You need something?"

She nodded, and inclined her head. Follow me. Vanni got the message and fell into step beside her.

"What are we doing?" he asked, eyes scanning the space in front of him. "Come on, you never invite me to walk with you. It's Captain Jerrick, isn't it?"

Talya glanced at him. She nodded.

"Uh-huh. Knew it."

They walked in silence for a few more seconds before Vanni had to speak again.

"What's going on with you, Catalya?"

"Excuse me?"

And there it was. The faintly perplexed look she wore when someone asked her something personal out of the blue and they were not Captain Jerrick.

At any rate, Talya blinked and tilted her head a little.

"Nothing of importance," she answered. She paused, then nodded, as if satisfied with her answer. "Is there anything relevant happening in your life?"

He smirked a bit.

"Depends on your definition of 'relevant,' kid. But… nah. Nothing real interesting has been going on lately. Hopefully that changes today!"

Sometimes Talya thought she rather liked Vanni. Other times she wasn't so sure.

"There you are, Vanni. Talya's quick."

She definitely did like Jerrick, though. Perhaps that came of her years of knowing him.

"Captain Jerrick," Vanni greeted.

Jerrick offered him a grin, and with a sort of snap jumped to the point of attention.

"Alright – you two. I want you both to accompany me on a scouting mission. The details are a little hazy. As you know, we don't like trespassers."

"Two were shot down as soon as they broke atmo last month," Vanni reported helpfully. "One of 'em anon, one of 'em Romulan."

"Right." Jerrick gave Vanni a nod. "And as you also know, as of two weeks ago, our techies have given us a serious advantage over a lot of other civilizations with the new scanning technologies. That said…" He trailed off. His face grew hard. "There's another ship heading this way. Large one. Looks like a flagship, even. Definitely not low-tech like what we get sometimes. You two are some of the best, and so I want you with me when we take them down."

Take them down. Talya knew those words well, of course. It was quite literally what she lived for – defense by offense.

Simultaneously, she and Vanni nodded.

"When are we starting?"

Jerrick met Vanni's question gracefully.

"What better time than the present, Van?"

* * *

The _Spectre_ was not a passenger ship. It was not large, or spacious.

But it was lightweight, had a fantastic cloaking device and warping capabilities, only demanded a small crew of at least three – and was completely loaded with devastating weapons.

What more could they need to kill a ship?

Captain Jerrick and his aids were in the cockpit at the moment, discussing the plan of action. Talya hung back at the doorway, adhering to the two-person maximum occupancy rule.

"This guy's not a big one, but he is a quick one. Sharp. Dangerous. I think all we'd really need is a few clean sweeps across port and starboard, guns blazing…"

Jerrick's eyes were expressive when he wanted them to be, and right now they looked a deadly shade of Uranus blue.

"A couple hits and the shields would be trashed. A couple more and they'd be floundering. A couple more and they'd be sitting in the critical position and we'll have one of the larger ships warp over and pull them back through atmo–"

"And from there we let gravity crack 'em like an egg," Vanni finished.

"Though it would be important to remember…" Talya spoke up, gaze flaring over the console, "that it should take such a large ship only one or two direct hits to bring the Spectre down."

"Right." Jerrick nodded. "So we need to move fast, act faster, and get out of there Godspeed."

"Yes sir."

"Okay."

Jerrick stood, running an eye over the other two. His lips were pressed together as he cast a glance behind him, almost as if looking back at their planet.

"We have their general coordinates – let's catch them blind."

* * *

Captain James Tiberius Kirk was confident that this particular exploration would go well. The planet they'd been headed towards was quite Earthlike in nature, with a bit less water and a bit more green-and-brown. No polar caps whatsoever. There wasn't much information on it, either.

Well, not yet.

Kirk was going to see to that, though.

* * *

"Hold on to your hats, you two," Captain Jerrick breathed. He leaned forward ever so slightly.

"Sir."

"Ready when you are, cap'n," Vanni tossed lightly over his shoulder.

Jerrick squared his shoulders, ready for anything and everything. Ready and more than able to hit the ground running.

And that was why, at only twenty-four and a half years old, he was one of the best captains their planet had.

"Engage."

* * *

They say hindsight is 20/20.

Of course, in hindsight, something would go wrong.

It always did. Whether it was Kirk's bad luck or that of the _Enterprise_ , no one was really sure.

The spacecraft came out of nowhere – barely a ripple in space heralded its arrival. The _Enterprise's_ scanners barely picked anything up.

But everyone felt the dramatic quaking as the flagship took an Incredible Hulk hit to starboard.

"Sir, there appears to be a single stealth craft circling around for another hit," Sulu reported dutifully, his eyes never leaving the screen he was studying. "Its intentions are hostile."

"Couldn't tell," Kirk replied quickly. He searched the view he had of the great unknown with a sharp, wary eye. That came out of nowhere, for absolutely no reason.

"Can we take it out?"

Spock glanced rather sharply at his captain.

"That would be rather illogical, taking into consideration the fact that we have not even attempted to establish contact."

Kirk opened his mouth ready with a witty rebuttal – only another hit, more direct this time, rendered him silent and grasping for balance. The Enterprise seemed to let out a soft groan of protest under this random fire.

And there it was – just a glimpse, easily written off as imaginary. But everyone saw it, leaned forward a bit.

"Was that it?" Kirk asked quietly. The silver flash wasn't enough for a complete analysis, but what else could it be? "It's not even twice the size of a shuttle."

He turned to the crew, sitting at their consoles.

"Open all hailing frequencies," he ordered, "Let's talk to them."

* * *

"Jerrick. They're hailing us."

The captain paused, for a second looking as confused as Vanni sounded, as Talya felt.

"No one ever tries to establish communication," she pointed out quietly.

Jerrick was completely silent. Considering.

"Is there a significant tactical advantage to answering?"

"Besides getting to know the enemy?" Vanni asked. "Is it worth showing them our faces?"

"There's a simple remedy for that." Talya tossed Vanni and Jerrick a helmet each before pulling on her own, concealing her face with the visor.

"That's my girl," Jerrick breathed. He looked over his two friends.

"Put it on screen?" Vanni asked.

A second.

"Not yet. Test their patience, first. They'll make mistakes."

* * *

"No response, Captain," Uhura reported.

"Oh. Great."

Kirk's reply was slightly muffled by another hit to the shields.

"Shields at 21 percent, sir."

The captain braced himself on his chair.

" _Real_ great."

He met Spock's eyes with an eyebrow raised a bit.

"It's my turn now, Spock. Alright?"

The Vulcan gave a sort of reluctant nod.

"What do you intend to do?"

Kirk squared his jaw.

"Kill the ship."

* * *

It was when the attempts at communication stopped that the _Spectre's_ crew got antsy. It meant they were preparing to respond in kind to their attacks.

 _Speed_ , Jerrick reminded himself. Speed was the key.

They swept around in a clean arc.

"How many more, Vanni?" he asked.

"Think this one'll do her in," the tactical officer replied. He scanned over the image of the damaged ship. There was a regretful spark in his eyes. "Shame we're taking this one down. She's a beauty."

"She is," Jerrick agreed. "Gathering information, Van?"

"Yessir."

Talya leaned forward. Her light eyes studied the other ship.

" _Enterprise_ ," she read.

Jerrick straightened. "Oh, I'm stupid."

"What for, Cap?" Vanni's eyebrows jumped a bit.

The captain rubbed a hand over his face, his lips quirking into a troubled smile-grimace. "Oh, crap. The _Enterprise_ , Vanni. We've heard of this one."

"USS _Enterprise_ ," Talya amended. Now Vanni caught on.

"Aw, crud. That's… that's Starfleet, isn't it." His voice was flat. "Out here? _Now_?"

"We were always told to watch out for them," Jerrick murmured. "Who knows what kind of destruction they'll cause?"

"'A formidable enemy,'" Talya quoted from the textbooks, "'who have clashed with the Fourth Collective in a costly and devastating battle centuries ago. Since the Clash Starfleet has not been able to locate our people; and yet the military must be on guard, for bloodthirsty tenacity is Starfleet's motto.'"

"Dramatic," Vanni murmured. "This is them, then?"

"Right." Jerrick was strangely pensive. A strange gleam danced in his irises. "Bring it down."

"Yes, sir."

And that was when things went horribly wrong.

* * *

"Got a lock on them?"

"As good as we can get, sir."

"How accurate is the estimate on their location, Spock? Will we hit them?"

"By my calculations, a successful blow is 86.15% certain."

"Good enough for me. Alright. On my count, fire."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Talya was quick. Nothing escaped her notice. She had a reputation for her observational skill.

But in this case, everything happened so fast that it was a blur even for her.

Sirens wailed and the world quaked violently. Vanni fell out of his seat and Jerrick slammed his head nastily on the console.

" _Captain_!" the word tore out of her mouth even as she gripped tight to the back of Vanni's chair, even as her mind figured it out.

 _We've been hit, we've been hit,_ her brain screamed irrationally, over and over and over, _we're hit, we're damaged, we've been hit, we've beenhithithit -_

And suddenly Jerrick was standing, a couple red rivulets making their way down from his hairline. His eyes were stony as he helped Vanni up.

"They hit us," she heard him mutter to himself. "Crap."

* * *

"Can we bring them in?"

"Yes, sir. Locking on."

"Excellent. Beam them into the shuttlebay. Mr. Scott, how's she doing?"

"Shields're badly damaged, and the dilithium's overheatin' a bit, Cap'n. 'M goina need some time to sort her out."

"Well, get on it. We're having visitors."

* * *

"They've got us in a chokehold, Cap," Vanni rumbled, face troubled.

"We're not going down without a fight," Jerrick replied calmly. The gleam was back in his eyes, though, and as the _Spectre_ was drawn into the _Enterprise_ , Talya recognized the look as pure dread laced with a grin.

"Talya, Vanni, you're both alright?" he asked next.

"I've sustained insignificant damage," Talya replied quietly.

"You're one to talk, Jerrick," Vanni said. "I've only got a bruise. You cut your head open."

"It's not as bad as it looks," the captain reassured them. Talya passed him a strip of gauze and medical tape anyway. He smiled despite the situation.

"Catalya," he said, "I need you to grab some weapons. Arm yourself and bring some toys for us. Some sub-macs, if you find enough ammo, some knives and a few grenades. You know what, bring whatever we can hide on ourselves. And sub-macs, for the opening show."

"Aye."

She left the cockpit.

"Van, I need you to start brainstorming with me. We need to do as much damage as possible before we become prisoners of war – because that's where we're headed. Head up, Vanni Beck, and breathe deep - 'cause these are the last moments we're spending as free and proud soldiers of the Collective."

Vanni swallowed thickly. He gripped his captain's hand roughly in a display of loyalty, jaw setting.

"Yeah. Let's give them a thrashing."

* * *

"Sulu, you have the bridge."

"Yes, sir."

"Spock, Uhura, you're with me. Bones, you come too. Time to meet these guys."

* * *

"We're likely in their shuttlebay, sir," Talya murmured. She held her submachine gun with a practiced ease, shoulders straight and entire frame ready.

The two men at her sides were equally prepared for action. Silence settled over everything; even outside there was a tense wait.

Then one of the _Enterprise_ people spoke.

"This is Captain Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_ ," his voice came. The three inside tensed. "Show yourselves."

"I'll go first," Jerrick said. "You two…cover me. Please. Don't get hurt."

"You either." "Aye."

He opened the _Spectre's_ doors in one quick burst, and, sub-mac at the ready and head held high, Captain Jerrick Amador walked into the lion's den.

* * *

 **I'm doing it, guys! I'm happy!**

 **How is it so far? Coherent, I hope.**

 **Is everyone in character? Any questions?**

 **Thanks for reading, dears, you're fantastic!**


	3. Chapter 3

Talya was not given to fear. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she hardly knew what fear was. She hardly knew what _feelings_ were, because soldiers were not supposed to have feelings, not the most efficient ones.

How did it go? _"Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die"?_

Yes. That was it.

But her current predicament would generally warrant such an emotion, would it not?

She, Vanguard and the Captain had been captured by Starfleet. The Collective's textbooks and tutors alike stressed the danger of the organization.

Starfleet was brutal. Starfleet killed thousands of theirs. Starfleet always, Starfleet did, Starfleet was _bad, bad, bad_.

Her captain had walked right into their midst.

Jerrick's footsteps rang in Talya's ears. _One, two, three, four…_ and they stopped.

"I'm sure you'd like a perfectly sound reason for our visit, sir," she heard him say. Ever so calm. Ever so diplomatic.

"Put down your weapon, sir."

"Alright. Alright. Look – it's on the ground. Do you have your phasers set to stun or kill?"

 _Fishing for information, for his crew's sake._

The first voice, that of Captain Kirk, spoke up.

"As long as you mind your manners, I don't think it really matters. Both hurt, though, if that's what you're asking."

"Makes sense."

"Do you want to give us a name?"

A pause. "Call me Ishmael."

"Captain, it seems this man is from Earth or has studied 20th century human authors. That is the first sentence of Melville's _Moby Dick._ "

"Wow. Never would have pegged you for the whaling dictionary type, Spock."

"You are digressing, Captain."

Jerrick was focused on once again.

"So, Ishmael," Kirk said, "are you by yourself in your destruction spree?"

Talya could practically feel Jerrick bristling at the word _destruction_. This coming from _Starfleet_ of all people…

But he answered.

"If you want honesty…"

And his voice dropped. A subtle nuance in his tone that both she and Van knew. His _expectant_ pitch, the one that said _come join the party._

So she braced herself, and gripped Vanni's wrist lightly. Her sub-mac fit naturally into her arms and she calculated. Calculated the number of enemies, the most effective means of incapacitation, potential escape scenarios even though the man beside her had already murmured that they were in Zugzwang right now.

Jerrick let out a small, sardonic huff.

"No."

And the two other Collective soldiers burst out of the _Spectre_.

* * *

Ishmael's quick and candid response gave them virtually no preparation time. In a split second, two more, a young man and a young woman, practically flew out of the damaged ship, guns blazing.

"Get down!" Kirk shouted, barely dodging a spray of bullets.

"Security to Shuttlebay Two," Spock was ordering into his communicator.

Ishmael swung his submachine gun up and caught Kirk in the small of the back, eliciting a grunt of pain from the other man. Within seconds Jim was on his feet.

And, sub-mac to phaser, Captain to Captain, they faced each other, right in the middle of the chaos around them. Dimly Jim registered the doors sliding open and four redshirt security officers storming in.

Ishmael allowed his eyes to sweep once to the left and once to the right, taking into account his team, before zeroing back on Kirk and gripping his gun a bit tighter.

A tense moment crawled past.

And then the two launched themselves at each other, falling into an intense skirmish.

* * *

Nyota Uhura ended up pressing her phaser into the collarbone of another woman – go figure. A stark contrast from her, this woman was slighter, less elegant, wirier and less human. That was it – no human would react the way she did to having a weapon pressing into her skin.

The pale woman kept very still, deathly still, even as a shot was fired dangerously close to the Uhura's feet and she flinched.

Reflex, she knew, but she cursed herself bitterly – the pale girl jerked out of her grip and knocked the phaser to the floor.

Uhura cursed in Klingon. _Spock would never let this go –_

* * *

Talya knew a lot of things. Useful, lifesaving things.

Like now, for instance – she knew not to pull her punches.

And so she wasted no time in slamming her fist into the dark-skinned woman's face.

* * *

Kirk's eyes widened as Uhura crumpled in his peripherals, right in front of the blur that was the third enemy taking on two redshirts _plus_ Spock.

And right before Ishmael wrapped an arm around his neck, he got a glimpse of the eerily pale woman hefting her gun and making a beeline for McCoy.

"Bones!" he ground out, returning the favor punch for punch on Ishmael.

* * *

The CMO was patching up one of the redshirt ensigns (redshirts, always redshirts) when he heard Kirk's strangled warning. Almost knocking over the kit full of medical supplies, he jerked. His head whipped around, and it was then that he met the bland grey eyes of the woman.

 _Just my luck._

Cursing, he swung his phaser up with the full intention of stunning her into a coma… when she spoke. Her choice of words was disconcerting, to say the least.

"You are a medical officer, yes?" Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her head a fraction. "I am… very sorry."

Bones wasn't even able to move out of the way. She hit him right in the head with her gun and he practically felt his head break open. "Agh! _Son of a –!"_

He didn't finish his sentence either; a clatter and another murmured apology, and the soft-spoken woman had knocked him out with his own hypospray.

* * *

 _Vulcan_ , Vanni thought harshly. The guy's Vulcan. He'd already dispatched the two idiots in red, but this pointy-eared nuisance just wouldn't go down for anything. He threw uppercuts and fired off some ill-intentioned shots and the guy kept going.

Some Vulcan martial arts style, was the closest thing Vanni could get of the way he performed in battle.

"Are you… you tired yet?" he asked, as casually as he could. If they weren't doing their odd combat dance so _fast_ Vanni may have been a bit surer about seeing the Vulcan's eyebrow lift up.

"I will continue for as long as necessary," was the brisk reply.

"Well... ain't that inconvenient," the Collective man muttered.

"I agree."

"Do me a favor and _die_ or something!"

In response he had the breath knocked out of him and was forced to drop into an evasive roll.

 _Stupid ruffman!_

And of course there was another Red. They were like roaches – there was always one more. Van knew something was off when the Vulcan stepped back slightly. And that's when it hit him.

The redshirted kid plowed straight into him, knocking him violently to the ground. There was a sudden agonizing pain in his skull and a sharp _crack_ that sounded like maybe his brain was leaking onto the white ground, and the world spun. It occurred to him that he'd been ganged up on _for the second time,_ only this time the Red was actually competent.

And then he registered a muzzle pressing into his temple. His eyes fluttered vaguely. More snub muzzle than a sub-mac's, and his back-up gun was in its holster – the phaser.

He was being held at phaser point by a kid.

Aw, that hurt his pride. Almost to the point where it physically stung, his reaching surreptitiously into his waistband.

* * *

Ensign Ricardo was pretty pleased at the nod Commander Spock gave him. It was what gave him the bravado to raise his voice in a yell.

 _"Stop fighting or I'll kill 'im dead!"_

Spock's eyebrow twitched.

* * *

Talya froze, slowly uncurling herself from the uncomfortable position from which she'd been busy putting the three redshirts under a strong sedative.

 _Van._

From her right, Jerrick, who had Captain Kirk pinned, suddenly sat up, shoving the other man off. His skin blanched.

"Vanni," she heard him choke out. He rushed to stand but was stopped short by Kirk drawing his phaser.

 _Oh, man,_ Jerrick mouthed, and put his hands behind his head.

At his defeated glance that quickly became worried as it returned to Vanni, Talya stood. The Vulcan had his phaser pointed at her, anyway, and so she copied Jerrick's gesture.

"Security," Kirk said into his comm. His voice broke slightly. He cleared his throat. "Security, prepare the brig. Med bay, we're bringing you six…nine wounded." He shot a sharp glance at the three, then back at Jerrick.

"Ishmael," he muttered. "I hope you know that you caused a _hell_ of a lot of trouble."

"Right. Noted."

* * *

Jerrick was obviously not focused on his reply. His eyes darted between Talya and Vanni, his forehead creasing slightly.

One wouldn't know it, but his heart was pounding hysterically. He and his friends were _Starfleet_ prisoners now – the Collective's greatest threat. He might as well have shot all of them dead from the get-go. They would have been _safer_ then.

* * *

Talya stifled her rising anxiety. Or, well, no – more like… acute discomfort and vague apprehension. Her only focus from here on out was maintaining integrity and making sure her comrade and her Captain were alive.

* * *

As for Vanni, hanging on to clear consciousness, the only thing running through his mind was the fact that, when asked once, he had replied that one of his least favorite things ever was a traitor.

He grinned crookedly at the irony as he quite literally stabbed Ensign Ricardo in the back.

* * *

 **Thanks so much to Cat4444! I was thinking the phrase looked wrong somehow - really appreciate you pointing it out. Ironic considering I'm Prolix** ** _Descartes_** **, huh? Hope this one was alright, schatzi!**


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